This Foreign Thing
by Poli Almasy
Summary: Charlie is a Fiend who never quite managed to clean up all the way, but he wants to be good, to be kind, and to be useful. Boone sticks with him because where Charlie goes, Legion follows; it makes for good sport. This world will destroy them all, in the end. Slash content. MCourier; Vulpes, Benny, and Boone to a greater or lesser degree. All end badly.


A Courier's whole story in a one-shot. Slash with MCourier; Vulpes, Benny, and Boone to varying degrees. None of them turn out well

/

The first time Boone saw Charlie he was just a mop of black hair atop a thin body on the horizon. The sniper's shift was coming to an end and Manny's footsteps were already on the stairs. If he had wanted to, Manny could move with more grace than that, but he made his footfall louder as to not surprise Boone with his arrival. They didn't exchange words as they made the switch, but Boone did point out the man approaching Novac. He had no armor and an assault rifle over his shoulder. He limped on the left side a bit but walked with purpose. Could be a threat, maybe, maybe not.

Boone saw the man again during his next shift. He came barreling through the door like a tornado and right into the dinosaur's mouth. Had the gall to look surprised Boone was there. A cigarette hung from his chapped lips, which also carried a dopey smile. The pack slung over his shoulder was stuffed with obviously stolen souvenir rockets from the downstairs closet. Boone wasn't in charge of prosecuting petty shoplifters, so fuck it.

His eyes were so vividly green Boone wondered if it was some sort of side effect from radiation. They practically glowed when they caught the light.

"Sorry, thought you were someone else." Charlie spoke with the cigarette still in his mouth. It bounced up and down but didn't fall. He was so tall that he had to slouch to fit inside the mouth and he had spidery tattoos that reached all the way up to his jawbone. Boone had seen enough soldiers turn to chems to know this guy was a mess.

Boone grunted in reply.

"Where's Manny?"

"Asleep."

"Oh. Tell 'em I'll be back soon. I gotta see a ghoul about a trip to the moon." He dragged from his smoke without ever using his hands for the task.

"I don't know you."

"Charlie." He dropped the pack to the ground and two of the rockets rolled loose. His offered hand was knobby and huge. The tattoos extended even there, depicting the outline of a skeleton hand. His actual hand was just about as thin as the depiction.

"Craig Boone. Wait," Boone shook his hand. His mother had raised him right, after all. "You're not from around here, maybe that's what I need."

"Always happy to help." With their hands clasped like this, Boone could make out the track marks from injectables on Charlie's forearm, some fresher than others. They wove in between other markings and bruises. He was in rough shape, but he'd have to do.

Boone explained to him in measured words about his wife being taken, and needing to find those responsible before moving on. Someone had sold her and that someone needed to pay. He blocked out those pictures in his mind of the last time he had seen her, still so beautiful, but much more frail. Charlie listened and nodded and smoked. With more enthusiasm than Boone could muster to do anything, Charlie accepted the task. Once the ghouls had lift-off he would be right on the case. Instead of packing away Boone's beret, he smashed it on top of his thick black hair.

"What did I tell you, put it on when you find the fucker."

"I'm heading in the opposite direction right now. We're cool." Charlie mock saluted and smashed his hand against the roof of Dinky's mouth. If that had hurt, Charlie gave no indication.

As Charlie left, Boone wasn't actually convinced that the addict could last another six hours, much less be of any help to anyone else. No one else could be of any help either, so there was that. The man with the radioactive eyes was the only chance he had. Even if he found the wrong man, at least someone would get to die.

Boone didn't see the rockets launch from REPCONN, though he supposed he had felt it rattle him awake from his sleep before drifting back off. When he woke for his next shift some of the townsfolk were still talking about it. The citizens of Novac talked about Charlie like he was a real hero, a good boy, a solid person. His deed had blinded them from his Fiend's physique and demeanor. Boone had shot down enough men high as kites and reduced to animalistic violence to know Charlie was just a hit or two away from that. But it didn't matter to the people of Novac, they didn't know or didn't care. He was a goddamn savior.

The hours ticked by. Maybe the junkie had shot himself into space too. Now he had no one to blame but himself. He knew better.

But there he was, that tall sack of bones, the glow of his cigarette cutting through the semi-darkness like a beacon. The beret was on his head and Jeannie May Crawford at his side. He had his arm linked through hers and she was laughing at something he had said, her head thrown back and the wrinkles on her throat pulled tight in a vulgar sort of way. When Charlie had the sense to decouple from the motel proprietress, Boone lined up his shot and took it. The top of her skull came clean off, landing in the dirt behind her. Her body convulsed and fell to the ground like a doll, brain matter and blood staining the packed earth.

Charlie looked up into the mouth of the dinosaur and saw the beast inside. He smiled and waved and trotted to the entrance with the enthusiasm of a child.

By the time Charlie made it up the stairs, Boone had composed himself. It wasn't killing someone that made him shake, but the possibility of sweet, sweet revenge. He wanted more of it. He wanted to drink the blood of the Legion dry.

"Nice shot, man."

Charlie extinguished his cigarette on the roof of the mouth, letting the ash fall to the floor. Rifling around in his pack he produced a jet canister and a pack of cigarettes. He offered both to Boone in one of his giant hands; Boone accepted only the smoke. Charlie took a hit off the jet before finding a lighter, letting Boone go first before starting on his own cigarette.

"Do you have evidence? That it was her?"

"Yeah, yeah it's what took so long." Hands reached back into that seemingly endless pack of his. He pulled out a bundle of neatly folded papers and passed them to Boone. "My reading isn't that good. But I recognized some of the words. And it's got signatures, it's a contract."

"Your reading isn't that good?" Boone eyed Charlie's wrist. He had one of those portable computers that came from the vaults. Someone got unlucky and Charlie must have taken it off of them.

"Oh, this?" Charlie raised his left hand and showed Boone the device. "The doc that fixed me gave it to me. Said it would help me. Do you know how it works?"

"No, not really." He went back to reading the document.

Charlie shrugged.

The contract was evidence enough. Crawford had sold his wife and child into slavery and now Crawford was dead. The sour feeling in his stomach persisted. It took Boone a moment to realize Charlie was waiting for something from him. He stared out into the Mojave night, a little high still, but there was a purpose there, he wasn't that far gone.

"Right, I suppose you want payment?"

"Nah, man. I just wanted to know what it said. I got the right person, right?" The hint of regret at the end gave Boone pause.

"Yeah, you got the right person. It's a contract for the sale of my wife."

"What are you going to do now?" The orange end of his cigarette glowed yet. Boone had all but forgotten his. He puffed at it to occupy his mouth.

"I'm not staying here. I can't stay here. Wander, maybe." Boone hadn't given it much thought. He had assumed he was going to settle down in Novac, make a home, raise beautiful little children that took after Carla and not after him. All of that was stripped away. Children's voices were supposed to keep his nightmares away.

"Come with me?" It was weirdly desperate. Charlie was suffering from loneliness.

"No."

"Please?" Boone realized how young Charlie must have been, even though his body had been somewhat wrecked by chem use. He should have been healthy, strong, in the prime of his life, just like Boone. But his body was broken. Boone might have been those things, but he was broken too.

Charlie started up again. "Legion, right? She sold your wife to the Legion? That's one of the words I knew." His hands waved about erratically. "I'm doing a favor, for someone else, an NCR Ranger. She wanted me to go to Nipton, to see what was going on. She thought Legion. I could use some backup, and fuck you're a good shot. Come on."

Now that was tempting, getting to fill some Legion assholes with lead. Charlie was offering something he desperately wanted to take. Yeah, he would go to Nipton. Before he could say yes, Charlie kept on talking.

"I sort of went around Nipton on my way here, I saw the fires. Maybe I was just too chicken-shit. But I had just woken up from my coma and all. I wasn't feeling too hot you know?"

"Yes. I'll go."

"Oh man, awesome. Awesome. Let's go now."

"Yeah."

Charlie picked up his pack, which was considerably smaller now that it wasn't filled with rockets, and his assault rifle. It was beaten to shit, probably prone to jamming. It certainly wouldn't pass inspection. Then again, Boone also didn't know chem junkies to be particularly good shots.

"Do you need to grab anything before we go?"

"No."

"Cool." Surprisingly, Charlie didn't have much to say for quite awhile afterwards. They walked together down the roads to Nipton relatively undisturbed. It took a whole hour before the silence broke Charlie and words started pouring out of him like a flood.

"Do you know much about Boulder City? That's where I've got to head after Nipton. I hope you'll come with me. Manny said that the guy I'm looking for was heading to Boulder City." Charlie put both hands on the back of his head, jutting his bony elbows out. He was maybe the tallest man Boone had ever seen, and didn't have an ounce of fat on him. All sharp angles and pointy bits.

"No, I don't know much about it."

"Benny, that's the guy's name. The one that shot me in the head. Man, a guy tries to make a couple caps legit, then BAM! Bullet right to the brain." Charlie knocked on the side of his head then brushed the thick black strands out of his radioactive eyes.

It took half a days travel before the smoking corpse of Nipton came into sight. Even from a distance, it was clear that it had been decimated. It stank of burning rubber and charred bones. Boone knew these smells.

"Okay, one more thing before we waltz in there." Charlie was wrapping his hands with boxers' tape he had retrieved from his pack. Next came two bottles of water, one for each of them. Boone drank silently as Charlie wrapped and talked.

"Some of these guys, they might, er, know me a little."

Boone tensed. Charlie threw up his hands as a gesture of submission.

"I aint one of them! I swear. But they might know me, so don't freak out on me, okay?"

"Okay." Other than being an all around strange individual, Boone had to admit that Charlie hadn't really done anything to suggest he was untrustworthy. He did help Manny, and in the process helped those ghouls. And he did help him. And this was supposed to be for the NCR. Charlie was at least trying to be good. And the Legion was undoubtedly evil.

/

Charlie could breathe easier after letting Boone know, at least in indirect terms, that he maybe-just-maybe knew some of these Legion guys. So he hadn't been entirely honest about how he knew them. Details, details.

They entered Nipton through the back gate and headed around to the town hall. With any luck, they would find evidence of the Legion's atrocities and a couple of low ranking members left behind for cleanup duty. Charlie would get his evidence for Ranger Ghost, Boone would, rightfully, get to shoot up some Legion twats, maybe Charlie would punch a few in the face and they could all get on their merry way.

But there, standing before the town hall in full regalia was the man Charlie least wanted to see. His head-dress made him look a good deal taller than he actually was, but he was still tanned and muscular and fuck fuck fuck no please don't speak you goddamn son of a bitch.

"Ah, so it is true, you do live, have you come to bask in the glory of Caesar's empire? Have you seen the error of your ways, little whore?" Vulpes cooed the words from his elevated station on the town hall steps. "And who is this? Your new master?" His teeth were like the fox he was named for. Charlie had long ago accepted that it wasn't his fault he got hard when Vulpes spoke to him, even in such disgusting circumstances. Charlie knew he was disgusting.

He was disgusting because he would lay on his back in the dirt high as he could fucking be and spread himself open for Vulpes. It was a disgraceful, illegal thing in the Legion, but Vulpes indulged in it anyway. Vulpes would indulge in Charlie's, wrecked, disgusting body and Charlie would moan and pant like the good little whore he was called. He would pound Charlie into the dirt and call him Claudia like he was a Legion slave and a woman, when really he was just a Fiend who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. Funny that. The illusion was complete in Vulpes' fucked up head. Once he had even said he would make pretty Claudia heavy with his child. But Charlie was still a rail thin boy who would ejaculate all over the both of them while Vulpes fucked him.

Maybe the Fox thought he could fuck the addiction right out of him. Like his cock would simultaneously save him from the needle and from his profligate ways. The Legion was just fucking full of assholes who thought they knew better. Stupid, fucking, hypocritical assholes. Vulpes would call him his pretty whore and fill him with his cock and then tell him he should join the ranks, he had such potential as a man, his pretty girl.

But it was still an illicit thing, and Vulpes was treading on thin ice as well in front of his men.

"No? Not here to join the cause, little whore?"

Boone didn't wait for any more discussion, he just started shooting. At this range they were completely fucked. Charlie didn't even bother with his rifle and just grabbed the closest man to his position, using him as a shield and pulling the powerfist off his hand. He didn't have time to put it on himself. Instead, he used his captive as a battering ram and smashed a second Legionnaire into the wooden home opposite them. Charlie moved with such force he knocked both out.

Lacking firearms was a mixed blessing for the Legion. Boone was scrambling to get on top of one of the single-story homes to gain a better vantage point. He needed distance between himself and the attackers. Charlie had to make space for him. Ignoring Vulpes for now, Charlie darted towards Boone, pulling down a Legion scout from behind in the process. He smashed his head with his boot repeatedly until his skull cracked and blood seeped into the dirt. There was one more to eliminate before Boone would be somewhat in the clear. He was already halfway up the side of the building.

Charlie launched himself at the pursuing officer and tackled him to the ground, giving Boone the space he needed. He brought his fists down into the Legionnaire's face, breaking his nose, then his jaw. The Legionnaire spit blood into Charlie's open mouth before a shot cracked through the air. It had narrowly missed the side of Charlie's face, and had gone clean through its intended victim. Charlie looked up to the roof of the house, but Boone had already moved on to another target.

It wasn't a large regiment, most were eliminated already and Boone was making short work of the rest now that he was in proper position. Charlie had miscalculated. Well, he hadn't calculated at all, or really given any consideration to Boone's skill set. They had just shuffled into Nipton like a bunch of tourists. Charlie had been called an idiot before, this sealed the deal.

It was too late, Vulpes was gone and both he and Boone were alive. He would have to explain.

/

Boone jumped from the top of the house he had been sniping from and rushed after Charlie, his rifle drawn in case the other man tried to do anything too suddenly. Charlie was covered in blood and bits of drying flesh. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyes were wild. He looked like a cornered animal, he was a cornered animal.

"What the fuck was that?" Boone tried not to yell. They would attract more attention that way. "You said you weren't with them."

"But I did say they might know me," Charlie choked. He went for his pack and pulled out the jet canister. He shook it before huffing. Within seconds his hands stopped shaking, but his voice remained frantic. "I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know it would be him." He looked like he was just up on the edge of tears.

Boone's mood softened, a bit. How a grown man could look so helpless, pathetic, was beyond him. Charlie was probably in his early 20s? Surely no older than that. But even though he was impossibly tall he looked like a kid, at least like this. A fucking snot-nosed kid who just needed a good pat on the back to get going again. Instead, he huffed down his chems and stared into the distance.

"I loved him. I'm disgusting and I loved him." Charlie's head lolled side to side. He may have overshot his tolerance.

"I don't even want to know, Charlie. Let's get out of here." Boone offered him a hand up and he accepted. The stench all around them was making Boone light headed, he wanted to leave. He wanted to be anyplace but here.

NCR Outpost, Boulder City, back to Novac for a bit, where no one had moved Crawford's corpse, instead the birds picked it clean, and then onto the Strip. Charlie drifted around the Mojave and Boone drifted with him because he had nowhere else to go. Besides, Legion parties tried to intercept them every couple of days and Boone got the satisfaction of picking them off before they could even get within throwing distance. Charlie would just sit by and watch, eating directly from his can of beans or whatever else was for dinner and admiring Boone's sure shooting. Never once did Boone actually see Charlie use the assault rifle he carried with him.

Charlie was almost constantly talking, but he didn't say anything about the Legionnaire in the fox hood again. Besides, it was clear enough the Legion wanted Charlie dead, and that was good enough proof to Boone that they could stick together for now. Enemy of my enemy is my friend. It was as good a cause as any.

Their journey to the Strip probably would have been faster if they didn't spend so much time randomly scaving for caps and chems and ammo Charlie never used. They left plenty of valuable items behind if they were too heavy or not to Charlie's tastes. There didn't seem to be a system there.

No matter how much he huffed, or injected, or pills he swallowed, Charlie was never reduced to nonfunctionality. They would settle down for the night, Boone taking the first shift, and he might shoot up some Med-X. For ten minutes he'd talk the sky down in that youthful, silky voice of his, then he'd become very quiet, staring up at the stars. He'd sleep for three or four hours and then be wide awake. A little jet, a little jumpy, but ready to take second watch. Maybe that was why he never shot his gun. Maybe he couldn't see straight through those impossible eyes.

By the time they reached New Vegas they could easily clear the credit check. It had been a non-issue for them and they just breezed through. The constant stream of Legion attacks had been a blessing and they always had swords and knives to sell to traders. Turned out that they were wealthy men in a poor world. Boone wasn't used to the feeling.

One of those security robots greeted them at the gate and addressed Charlie as "Courier Six." Charlie was all smiles and charm with the robot. Telling him he had a little business to take care of and then he would go see Mr. House. No, he hadn't forgotten. He called the robot Victor and they said their goodbyes.

Boone wasn't so sure that he should have followed Charlie all the way to the Strip, but he had grown used to his company. Despite appearances, it turned out that Charlie was a good person. He laughed frequently and those eyes that had first appeared monstrous were actually incredibly expressive. And they didn't glow in the dark after all.

Boone knew they were here to see the leader of the Chairmen, Benny. He knew in a round about way who Benny was, being a Strip celebrity. He also knew that Benny had shot Charlie in the head on account of some package delivery. Charlie was supposed to be dead, he was supposed to be dead a whole bunch of times, but he never managed to stay dead for very long.

Charlie had a big black "X" tattooed over his heart, interlocked with a whole bunch of other markings. Boone had seen it the time they bathed in Lake Mead. The lines were heavy and dark against the pale flesh of his chest and the outline of his ribs. And when Charlie caught him staring he covered the mark with both his hands.

The Tops was alive in the way Boone had remembered it. In the way it had been when he and Carla would spend nights out on the Strip. Her face was glowing and she was so happy. He wanted to keep her happy forever. Boone had never seen a woman like her before. And here she was, interested in him even though he could barely string a sentence together. She would laugh and toss her hair as she sipped from her glass of rum mixed in with something sweet. Her lips tasted like cherries.

The doorman asked for their weapons and Charlie was just a-okay with handing them over. The never-used assault rifle was easily relinquished. Boone was more hesitant, but knew this day was coming, knew the policy. He felt naked without his rifle. No, not naked, useless. When there was nothing to shoot at, Charlie really didn't need him here.

/

Charlie made sure that Boone was set up real nice at the Tops. He had a drink and some caps to gamble with. He would have found the sniper a pretty girl to share his table, had he thought Boone would be up for it. But, from what little Charlie knew about Carla, he figured it was best not to try and push random women onto Boone. He wasn't up for it, yet. Still, there was a pretty blonde and her even prettier brunette friend who were clearly eyeing Boone up. He couldn't blame them in the slightest. It was only a matter of time before a pretty girl found him, Charlie didn't have to intervene on that front.

Checkered coat, checkered coat, where was the checkered coat? Charlie knew roughly what to look for in the man who had killed him. Nearly killed him, details.

There he was, predictably surrounded by other Chairmen in their clean pressed suits. Charlie knew he looked a mess, but it couldn't be helped. A couple of days ago they swam in Lake Mead and changed their clothes. Boone had looked at him and been obviously disgusted with what he saw. It had made Charlie self-conscious at the time. They weren't exactly friends, but they at least got along, he thought.

Charlie had no need to fear anyone with a firearm, so he approached Benny head on with all the charm and confidence he could muster.

"What in the goddamn…" Benny's cigarette dropped from his mouth and onto the carpet. Charlie offered him a fresh one from his pack. His mamma raised him right. Still in shock, Benny took one and lit it absentmindedly.

"Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves...like smooth little babies."

Charlie smiled in the disarming way he knew he could and brushed back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. In all the descriptions he had gotten of the Chairmen's boss between Goodsprings and here, none of them mentioned he was this fucking good looking.

"It was you, wiped out the Khans down in Boulder City? You did that?" Benny paused. "Oh shit."

"When you shot me you ran off so fast I didn't get your name." Charlie was testing the waters with that. He didn't want to kill Benny out here in the open. He had other Wasteland appointments to keep. There were still half a dozen other favors that had been asked of him and he wanted to get them done to the best of his ability. He couldn't do that if he was dead.

"Are you making a pass at me, friend?" He didn't appear entirely unhappy with the idea. Charlie's size didn't seem to intimidate him in the least, nor his general demeanor. Then again, swanky guys like this always seemed to be able to pick merchandise out of a crowd. And as long as they weren't the ones doing the servicing, they didn't think any differently of their masculinity. The glossy ones could be into some fucked up shit too. Like fucking corpses they had made themselves.

"Is it wrong to want a guy who'd shoot me in the head?" It was hard, not to play up the sex. Not to act like he wanted it. Sure, he was going to kill the fucker, but he could have a little fun too. He hadn't gotten any since Goodsprings when he sucked off Chet in the back room for supplies. It hadn't exactly been his finest moment or particularly satisfying. Benny looked like he could actually go a few rounds. A little older, but well built, sophisticated, commanding. Yeah, he would do.

"Did those bullets scramble your egg? Or have you always been a naughty bitch." He hung on that last word, insinuating what Charlie was, making it clear who would be doing what once they got upstairs. There would be no negotiation. That was fine. Charlie liked it that way.

"What can I say, I like bad boys. And you've been downright awful."

"You're sick, baby. There's quins and then there's...I don't even know what to call you."

Charlie could tell Benny was getting aroused. Hell, he was getting aroused too and he was supposed to be focused on revenge. This was turning out much, much better than he had expected though. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Boone, still at the table and both the pretty girls trying to get his attention. They laughed and ran their fingers along the rims of their glasses. He should have left more caps with Boone. Give the sniper a little fun too, show those girls a good time.

"I'm a courier, remember? Don't you want me to handle your package?" Charlie kept his voice low, making sure it faded under the ambient noise of the casino floor. He wasn't entirely sure on that last line, it might have been too much, but Benny didn't seem put off by it.

"Alright baby, this is all kinds of wrong, but to my suite it is. Thirteenth floor. Don't keep me waiting." Benny extinguished his cigarette and went on ahead, leaving his bodyguards behind. Charlie knew well enough to let a couple of minutes elapse before following. He'd played this game before, albeit in less glamorous surroundings.

Making his way back over to Boone, he fished around for another couple hundred caps to hand over. Whatever Boone wanted, he should be able to get it. Even if it was a lady in each hand. Guy fucking deserved it for putting up with his shit.

"Hey man." He discreetly put the packet of caps into Boone's hand under the table. "Ladies." They giggled and blushed, Charlie knew his smile always worked, even if his teeth weren't in the best shape, it was all about confidence. "I'm gonna be a bit. Have fun, don't wait up." He winked at the girls before heading for the elevator.

No sooner did Charlie cross the threshold into Benny's suite than he was on his knees in front of his cock. Benny only bothered to unzip his slacks before forcing it down Charlie's throat. Knowing he was a man of many talents, and this was one of them, Charlie went to work throating him as far as he could. The organ was hot and slick and the way it filled his mouth was oh so right. Fuck if he didn't get off on this shit. Benny's hands were in his dark hair, controlling his movements and forcing him to take more until he nearly choked on it.

Charlie covertly unzipped his jeans and palmed his own erection as he sucked off Benny from the floor. He sincerely hoped that it was going to go further than this. Although, this was already better than Chet and his pencil dick, that was for sure. Charlie's free hand skimmed over the outside Benny's legs, trying to get a read on both his physique and concealed weapons.

Benny jerked Charlie's mouth off of him by his hair and then released him. "Get up."

Smirking, Charlie made a show of standing and demurely holding his pants up to not further expose himself. He was at least five inches taller than Benny, but probably weighed a little less. Perfect.

"Come here." Benny gripped him by the front of his tshirt and pulled him down so they could kiss. Oh, oh, Charlie hadn't been expecting this at all, but it was nice, mix it up a little. They bit at each others lips until one, or both, of them drew blood.

Benny hauled him into the bedroom and deposited him on the large, soft, clean bed. Charlie wasn't at all sure that he had ever fucked on a bed as nice as this. Normally it was in the dirt, or maybe a stained mattress. Sometimes it had been in front of other people and he had been too high out of his mind to give a fuck.

"Wait, wait," he wheezed between kisses. Charlie pulled his canister from his pocket and took a long hit before offering it to Benny. His mamma raised him right. Not interested, Benny knocked the inhaler out of Charlie's hand and it fell onto the floor with a soft thump.

/

Charlie hadn't been kidding when he said he'd be gone awhile. Sarah and Mira sat with him a good long while. He bought them drinks and they talked to him and to each other. Both were sweet and pretty and interested, but he wasn't. Still, he bought them drinks and told them they were beautiful, because they were, but he didn't say that much otherwise. Sarah's big blue eyes and Mira's full red-stained lips, they were beautiful.

Eventually they excused themselves and headed back up to their rooms, alone. Boone put his head in his hands and inhaled and exhaled several times until the dizziness of drunkenness passed. It was another thirty minutes he sat alone before Charlie came back down from the elevator.

Boone recognized the smells of sweat and sex. Charlie's shirt was on inside out and backwards. Normally, he didn't ask questions because he didn't want answers, but this was just too much.

"What did you do, Charlie?" He could only hope that he would get the general story without all the details.

"You mean, who did I do? Am I right?" Charlie smiled and tried to slick back his hair but it just fell in his face again. A strange sort of irrational anger gripped Boone and he had to stamp it down. He wasn't involved in Charlie's revenge plot, he could do what he wanted. Charlie was clearly happy, so whatever.

"Nevermind."

They walked over to the Lucky 38 together. The night was warm and here on the Strip it was bright. Victor, that robot that had greeted them at the entrance to the Strip, was there to show them around. Boone was deposited in the Presidential Suite while Charlie continued up to the penthouse to see Mr. House. Left to his own devices, Boone inspected the suite for possible dangers and finding none, lay down to sleep in a real bed.

He woke to Charlie crawling in next to him. The ex-(current?)Fiend smelled like soap. Boone hadn't even thought of the luxury of a shower, it seemed so out of the realm of possibilities.

"I know you think I'm disgusting."

The only answer he could give was feigned sleep.

/

Charlie made it back into his own bed long before Boone woke up. He had been so fucking high and so fucking sad at the same time. Somewhere in his cycle of mood regulation he had fucked up and crawled into bed with a man who didn't want him, didn't even want to be remotely close to him.

They left some of their supplies in the Lucky 38. Mr. House had offered up the suite as a base of operations. Charlie still wasn't sure what side he was on. He still had to weigh the possibilities. It wasn't at all clear what the best choice for the people of the Mojave was. All he knew was that the Legion couldn't take the dam, but they really fucking wanted it. The NCR were probably the only force that could take on Caesar's army, and even that wasn't a sure thing. His head spun with possibilities and none of them seemed that great. How had he ended up the unlikely king maker?

He wanted to see Benny again. It was time to pull the trigger, metaphorically. He couldn't just let the guy live because he was a good, scratch that, excellent lay. Benny was either in or he was out. At the very least, Charlie had to decide between allegiance to Benny or allegiance to Mr. House. He could at least be sure that Mr. House wasn't going to mount him and slap his ass and call him a dirty bitch. So there was that.

They weren't two steps outside of the Lucky 38 when a handsome, but otherwise unassuming man in a brown suit and sunglasses approached them. Charlie knew better, Charlie knew anywhere. It didn't matter that he lacked the trappings of the Legion. He would always know this man.

"Boone, go back inside," his voice was cut with panic.

"No." Stoic, as always. The fact he had even answered was a mixed blessing.

"Please." But it was too late.

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you. He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark," Vulpes spoke those words as if they were nothing, as if Charlie was nothing but a casual contact. Somehow this was even worse than open acknowledgment of the past that had happened between them. "Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time."

"What mercy could Caesar give me, Vulpes? Has he extended his mercy to you too?" Charlie gritted his teeth as he spoke. It took all measures of self control not to jump on the Fox, not to pound him into the ground and smash his skull open. Self control not to kiss his lips until they were swollen and red and beg forgiveness not from the mighty Caesar but from Vulpes himself. Oh, couldn't he just forgive Charlie for not being a better man? Or a worse one? He wasn't sure which he was supposed to be in order to please Vulpes, only that he couldn't, wouldn't become a Legionnaire.

Vulpes' face softened if only slightly. He was never one for affection, that was for sure. "You would be an exceptional soldier. If you had listened to me you'd be a Praetorian by now."

Charlie couldn't bring himself to look at Vulpes as he spoke. Every encounter like this was searing to endure. "The Legion doesn't take junkies and they don't take queers. Caesar would kill me on the spot."

"No, he would see your potential." It was a matter of fact thing to say.

"No, he would see that you were fucking around with a junkie and a queer and kill us both." Charlie's words cut through the air.

Vulpes scowled. That looked more like him, the evil bastard that Charlie had a sick, layered affection for. He assumed his posture of Caesar's greatest Frumentarius and continued along with his honeyed, pre-planned speech. He spoke the words he had intended to before Charlie threw him somewhat off track.

"Incidentally, it will interest you to know that the man you seek has fled the Strip, and is likely making haste for Caesar's camp as we speak." Vulpes took off his hat and brought his lips to Charlie's ear, speaking in hushed tones between the two of them and the two of them alone. "And I know he had you, little whore. I will make sure Caesar will not be merciful."

/

Boone was getting what he wanted after all. They were en route to Fortification Hill, they were going to the man himself. He had a .308 round with Caesar's name on it. Per Charlie's request, Boone had resisted the urge to eliminate everyone in Cottonwood Cove. If he was hell bent on doing so, Charlie argued, he could do it by himself. Charlie was going to see Caesar while still under protection, rather than fighting all the way to the Hill.

Charlie had been much more quiet since receiving Caesar's mark. Small miracles, Boone supposed. They had done a little scaving, sold off what they didn't need, and bought some better weapons and armor. With the available caps, Boone had fixed up his rifle a bit from the wear and tear it had taken over the weeks. Charlie bought yet another assault rifle he was sure never to use and a powerfist in absolutely perfect condition. He wore it now on the boat.

The sun set over the Colorado but Boone wouldn't let himself sleep surrounded by these dogs that called themselves men. They had no honor and no right to life. He probably didn't either, but at least he was self aware of it. When they finally killed Caesar, he would be done with Charlie. No more traipsing around the Wasteland chasing shadows and ghosts with a man who was always on the brink of death even though he shone so brightly when he wanted to. No more.

At the gate to the Hill they were stripped of their weapons and Charlie was rather thoroughly pat down for chems. He smiled lewdly at the young Legionnaire who rubbed his hands over his body looking for canisters and bottles and syringes. Every time the young man found one he realized he would have to keep searching, keep touching the degenerate body. For good measure, Charlie even moaned when his ass and thighs were pat down. Boone looked away and felt his face get hot.

They were escorted up the Hill to Caesar's tent. Boone had to stay outside. He stood at attention, waiting for signs of struggle or the shouts of pain that would indicate the time had come, but there was nothing. Long minutes dragged by and the sun continued on its course through the sky.

Charlie finally stalked out and grabbed Boone by the wrist. "Come on, man."

They followed the trail back down the Hill. Charlie demanded his things back and the Legionnaire refused, saying they had to go to the bunker and complete Caesar's favor. Their weapons had already been transferred to the other location. They had no choice.

The kid looked chicken shit scared at Charlie's growing rage. He shoved the Legionnaire against the wooden fence and took off back behind the gate. This time, he didn't force Boone along with him, but he followed three steps behind anyway. Charlie's plan had gotten them well fucked, if there had even been a plan in the first place. Now they were weaponless and at Caesar's mercy. Charlie couldn't fight his way out of this alone and Boone couldn't even grab a firearm off of someone.

"I fucked up, Boone. I fucked up and I have a plan."

"You have shitty plans."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Boone."

They entered the bunker and true to Caesar's word their weapons were restored. Charlie shoved some object into a terminal and a great steel door slid open. Together they descended underground and the door sealed behind them.

"I gotta do this for Caesar," his hands were shaking. Boone wasn't sure if Charlie had gone too long without chems now and he was going through withdrawal, he didn't know enough about long term chem addiction.

"This is a fucked up world, Boone. I tried to be good. I really did. I tried to be helpful and kind and good, but this world just destroyed me." He dropped both his gun and the powerfist, sliding against the cool metal of the wall and ending up a heap on the floor. Charlie was a mess. He was always a mess and Boone couldn't do anything about it.

"Listen, you've been great, really great sticking with me even though you think I'm disgusting. I gotta blow up these Securitrons for Caesar and then I've got to kill Benny. I'm going to do it as kindly as I can, just slit his throat so he bleeds out quick. They wanted me to fight him in the arena, for sport. But he'll end up dead anyway and it'll be much more painful."

"What are you doing, Charlie?" Because right now it sounded a fuck of a lot like he was deciding to side up with the Legion.

"Vulpes was right," now he was crying, that was for sure. Had to be chem withdrawal, had to be. "I can make it to Praetorian real real quick. I got a good look at all those guys. I could take any of them in hand-to-hand right now. That'll give me unrestricted access to Caesar. This is how I can be good, this is how I can be kind, this is how I can be useful." His crying had slowed and his resolve strengthened.

"You and I both know that I'm a fuck up, right? And somehow I became a really important fuck up to a lot of people. I might be an idiot and I might be an addict, but I'm strong and I know how to fight. I can kill Caesar like this. I don't know what's right for the Mojave, and I shouldn't be the person who gets to decide, but I know Caesar isn't the right choice."

Boone still said nothing.

"We just got to get you out of here. So stick here by the entrance. I'll be back in a bit, you'll take the boat back to Cottonwood Cove, okay? And if you want to murder everyone there, that's your own business. But don't start it here, or he'll make me kill you too. And I can't. I can't Boone. Not you."

Charlie didn't wait for an answer, he just picked up his weapons and headed down the corridor and out of sight. Boone sat on the stairs and waited. There were no gunshots, but there were explosions.

When Charlie made it back, his hair looked darker, his eyes greener. He had always looked a bit like a skinny, sickly alien, but even more so now. He was a foreign thing, this Charlie who had always been so charming and likeable to everyone but Boone.

"It's not true." It took effort on Boone's part to summon those words.

"What?" Charlie looked down at him through thick lashes.

"I don't think you're disgusting, Charlie."

"Yeah, yeah you do, it's okay though. Come on, man." They ascended the stairs together. On the other side of the steel door their weapons were taken again and just outside the bunker they parted ways, just as Charlie planned. They didn't exchange words. They weren't even friends, really. Charlie was an idiot, that was for sure. A stupid, kind, merciful idiot.

Boone headed back towards the gate and his rifle was restored as he boarded the boat back to Cottonwood Cove. The space beside him was cold and empty. When he disembarked, it struck him as strange to have no one to follow. For all his flaws, Charlie had always led. This new freedom and loneliness was so peculiar to Boone that he forgot to kill anyone on his way out. He was miles away before he realized it. Instead, he set up camp for the night. He would head back in the morning.

/

Boone waited and waited for news of Caesar's death. In the intervening weeks he helped the NCR retake Nelson, sitting at the top of the hill and sniping Legionnaires below as a small team engaged in close combat with the dogs. He felt good, useful, better. It hadn't occurred to him that joining back up might be the best way to forget. But then he was sour all over again and didn't stay with the Nelson troops long. He just moved on and waited for news.

The news never came, but preparations to control the dam and drive back the Legion did. While Boone didn't officially join back up, he offered his services as a suspiciously low-priced mercenary. They were happy to have him. He got lots of pats on the back. Everyone had heard what a help he had been at Nelson. And hadn't he been at Nipton too? With that tall boy who was running around for awhile. And that attack on Cottonwood Cove? They didn't find it at all bothersome that Boone never answered their questions.

Boone did see Charlie, one last time. They were doing their best to hold the dam but the Legion just kept coming at them in unrelenting tides of bodies. There were so many of them. It was as if the whole East had come to fight, to destroy the civilization that the West had worked so hard to establish.

Charlie was a hard guy to miss, standing head and shoulders above everyone else. He wore the right helmet and skirt for the Legion, but had managed to lose his tunic, or he just didn't bother to wear one. Graceful movements kept him out of the line of fire and he picked up and crushed soldiers like they were nothing. He was fast and agile and beautiful. Yeah. Boone had thought that before, but never said it. He couldn't say it.

Inhale, exhale, inhale and line up your shot. Getting shot in the head had failed to take Charlie out once. Lucky for him, there was a target right over Charlie's heart, that big black "X" he had seen on the shore of Lake Mead. Charlie had covered it with his hands when Boone was caught staring. Charlie thought he was disgusting. At the time, at least, Boone didn't think so. Now it was another matter entirely.

Boone exhaled and pulled the trigger.

Charlie was like a tree falling, all loose limbs. He must have wanted to die. That's why he wore no tunic. Boone would comfort himself with that thought later.


End file.
